Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Argentina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Brick to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Mandrill,
Bob Dylan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Darondo,
Rites of Spring,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Five Americans,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cure,
Average White Band,
Archie Shepp,
DJ Sneak,
Babytalk,
Cameo,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fugs,
10cc,
Delta 5,
Magma,
Blancmange,
Das Ding,
The Human League,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Khruangbin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
The Pretty Things,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Camberwell Now,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Neu!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Saccharine Trust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
In Retrospect,
Charles Mingus,
Supertramp,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Machine,
CMW,
Soulsonic Force,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Urselle,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harry Pussy,
Spoonie Gee,
Mantronix,
Pylon,
The Star Department,
Cheater Slicks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Technova,
Mo-Dettes,
the Swans,
Freddie Wadling,
Oneida,
Bootsy Collins,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.